Presently as I passed there was a movement to be seen within the lighted-up room. A shadow came between the light and the window. Then the light was extinguished. I took my stand in the obscurity of a doorway and watched. The blind was drawn aside, then a figure appeared, a man, the fellow who had opened the door to me. He shut the window, withdrew, and all was darkness and silence, for the light in the hall was out.
I waited a while in my new position with my eyes fixed on the top window, whence it seemed the fan had been thrown out; but nothing rewarded my watch. It was getting late. In spite of the alarm my absence would cause Von Lindheim I determined to stay the night in Buyda. I could not bring myself to ride away, disregarding that appeal, though it was manifest how little it was in my power to arrest the approaching tragedy.
I quitted my corner and made my way with all speed to the hotel.
“I have changed my mind, I stay here to-night,” I said to the landlord. “It may be some time yet before I turn in, but have a room ready for me.”
Then I went round to the stables, and by the dim light of a lantern saw a fellow asleep on some sacks in a corner. I was proceeding to rouse him when I saw that he was in livery; the coachman, possibly, of some other guest. A pair of great black carriage horses stood in the stalls beside my nag. The harness was on them; they were evidently going out again that night. I don’t know what roused my curiosity and induced me to look closer. On the harness was a device, a coronet, and, underneath, a cypher, G. F. I went out into the yard. A roomy carriage stood under a shelter. Striking a match I examined the panels. On them was emblazoned a coat of arms, with the same coronet above and the same cypher below. Footsteps sounded on the cobbles of the yard. It was the ostler. I told him I should not want my horse that night; I was sorry to have kept him up.
“Oh,” he said, “mein Herr, there is no bed for me yet. A gentleman’s carriage going out at midnight.”
“Ah! the horses I saw in the stable just now. They are splendid animals. Whom do they belong to?”
“To the Count Furello, mein Herr,” the man answered with the importance of his kind over a distinguished customer. Somehow I was prepared for the answer.
“The Count travels late.”
“Yes, mein Herr.”